Post by Justin Kaard on May 23, 2016 20:46:48 GMT -5
****I'm posting this here as a possible trigger warning. This roleplay contains graphic scenes that depict violence against women and children.****
Justin hit the ground with enough force to rattle every tooth in his skull. He tried to focus on the pain in his ribs, tried use it to force himself back to his feet and continue fighting. It was nothing. This could be overcome. This wouldn't...wait, what? Justin's teacher and mentor dropped a knee across his throat and continued to press. Justin quickly grew dizzy and tapped out. The pressure didn't let up.
He tried to shout a warning but only a gurgle came out. Staring at the man above him as red tinged his quickly fading vision. He tapped against James's leg with more and more urgency but the older man didn't relent. Justin struggled to stay conscious in the rapidly swelling tides of black. He might as well have been struggling against the actual tides. Just before the last wave of darkness rolled over him the pressure on his throat stopped.
Justin sucked in a life saving gasp of air. James sat down on the mat next to him, not even breathing hard.
Prick.
"You know," Justin gasped, "you're supposed to stop when the other guy taps out."
James smirked and tossed a bottle of water at Justin. It bounced painfully off his chest.
"The things out there aren't going to stop if you tap out so why should I? In the field if something gets a hold of you then you had better be able to fight your way out of it."
"Yeah, but this isn't the field, I'm not going to be much good to your little Scooby gang if you kill me in training. Besides, I saw the shifter, stupid name by the way, it didn't exactly look like it was going to get into a grappling match."
James laughed, "It is a stupid name, but it's much easier to say than whatever Latin they dreamed up for it."
"You don't know what it is?"
"Do I look like I speak Latin?"
"If I say something about you looking like an intelligent and well spoken gentleman will that earn me a reprieve in training?"
James chuckled, "Probably not."
"Worth a shot, but you never answered my second question," Justin pushed himself up to a sitting position, "If we're fighting beasties-with big long scary claws-why am I learning Church-fu?"
"Church-fu," James snickered, "I like that. You're learning it because not everything we fight has claws and fangs. You're learning it because sometimes your body is your only weapon and it needs to be prepared. But mostly you're learning it because I enjoy beating the crap out of you."
Justin snorted, "See there it is. I knew it had to be something like that," he pushed himself back to his feet and brought his hands up to ready, "Round two?"
James responded with a lightning fast kick that caught Justin in the temple, stunning him and sending him reeling. Justin tried to recover with a clumsily thrown punch that James easily ducked out of the way of. Without wasting any momentum, James swept Justin's legs out from under him, causing the younger man to crash to the mat yet again.
Justin rolled onto his back with another groan, "You're supposed to say 'go', you dick."
"The creatures we're facing-"
"-aren't going to say 'go'. Yeah, I got that. But this is training. How am I supposed to defend against an attack I don't know is coming?"
"By always being ready for an attack. You can never be caught off guard if you're always on guard."
"Paranoid much?"
James didn't look amused, "I realize that I advised doing your best to keep your sense of humor intact, but there are times when you really need to shut up and listen. Tell me, Justin, what happens the night you're leading a team on patrol and you decide to ignore that instinct? Your team dies. Horribly. And you have to live with that for the rest of your life. Yes it is paranoid and frankly an exhausting way to live, but it's saved my life on numerous occasions." Justin wanted to quip about that being an oddly specific example, but the pain in James' eyes convinced him not to.
Who says he wasn't learning anything.
"TRAITOR!"
Justin followed the bellow to its source and instantly wished he hadn't. An incensed Richard was making a beeline across the training floor. Leading his charge with a crumpled piece of paper that Richard wielded it as though it were Excalibur itself.
"You worthless piece of demon excrement, you've exposed us."
James interposed himself between his protégé and the murderous Priest, "Stop. Right now."
Richard came to a stop but all the hellfire and brimstone in all the hells of the world couldn't have competed with the fury raging in his eyes. Justin's heart played a rapid staccato as he took an involuntary step back. Richard thrust the paper at James who quickly read it.
"'Exaggerated mix of booze, failed dreams, and a terminal identity crisis'," he continued reading, "'The Grimmstare'?"
James tried to suppress a laugh as he continued reading the press release, "'And those critters your 'friends' have you so convinced that you're hunting.'"
James couldn't hold his laughter back anymore, "This? This is what you're worried about exposing us, Richard? The ramblings of a Kentucky wildman?"
"Then how did he find out what your little pet has been doing? How did he find out about them? He spat the last word.
James turned to Justin who was guiltily looking anywhere but at his mentor, "Justin, did you tell anyone what happened?"
"No," Justin said instantly, "Well not on purpose anyway," he brushed a hand through his hair, "But there might have been some pants-shitting terror inspired ramblings in front of a few others. It's possible I might have said something about monsters being real. It's also possible I might have mentioned certain people hunting said possibly real montsters..."
The man gave Justin a hard stare.
"Look, I'm sorry, James. I was scared okay. I'm only twenty two, how the hell was I supposed to react to everything that happened?"
"By keeping your damned mouth shut," Richard growled.
James's glare turned into laughter, causing a very confused Justin and an even angrier Richard.
"This isn't a laughing matter, Keenan."
"Sure it is," James laughed, "I was just imagining what Grimm would do if he ever came face to face with a real monster. The visuals are quite hilarious. The so called 'Lord of Misrule' head butting a shifter has got to be one of the funniest god damn things I've ever seen, even it if was just in my head."
Richard grumbled about blasphemy, "The kid has exposed us, he's a liability."
"He's a kid, Richard. You know how kids are these days, they get a little liquor in them and they start making up all kinds of wild stories. Isn't that right, Justin." James glanced over his shoulder.
"But I wasn't drunk," Justin protested.
"I didn't say you were drunk, Justin. I just said you had a bit too much to drink and started making up stories. Because that's what happened, right?"
Justin finally caught on, "Right. Just a little too much to drink and a day of bad horror movies, that's all it was."
Richard gave both men a hard stare, "Fine, but when they find him gutted in an alleyway don't say I didn't tell you so."
He stormed off.
"Real charmer that one."
"He would have killed you if I hadn't stopped him, "all laughter gone, "he takes his vows very seriously."
"What about the whole 'Thou shall not kill' thing the bible goes on about. I thought you guys took that whole thing super serious."
James smiled again, "Justin, you've got a lot to learn. The people we work for have a very special set of rules for us to follow. They aren't exactly in line with the original ten commandments. For us it's not so much 'Thou shalt not kill', it's more like 'Thou shalt not get caught'."
"That's another thing, you keep talking about these people that we work for. I thought I was working for you; and so far I haven't seen anyone except you, me, and Happy McHappyton-the Priest who wants to kill me. When do I get to meet 'these people' we supposedly work for?"
"All in good time, Justin.," James was interrupted by his cellphone ringing on the bench. He hurried over to answer it. "This is Keenan." His voice was all business. It was only a moment before Justin watched his shoulders drop slightly, "Christ, how many? Okay, how long ago? Okay, I'll bring him. He needs to see this." James hung up the phone.
"Well that was oddly cryptic, you going to fill me in?"
"I'll fill you in on the way, go get cleaned up. By the way, do you own a suit?"
Thirty minutes later they were going down the road in a black Lincoln sedan that Justin had never seen before. He shifted anxiously in the passenger seat as he pulled at the collar of his suit. James reached into his jacket pocket and tossed him a small leather case.
“Open it,” he instructed.
Justin opened the small case and looked over bewildered, “What the hell is this?”
James smirked, “It’s a badge, and if they listened to my instructions it should list you as Special Agent David MacDonald of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It will stand up to any inspection they give it and give us access.”
“Access to what? What in the hell are we checking out that we have to impersonate Mulder and Scully?”
“You’ll see when we get there, Scully.”
Justin laughed, “From Buffy to Mulder all in one day. You guys really get around, don’t you?”
They drove to a nicer neighborhood on the outskirts of Greenville. Even before they stopped Justin knew the situation was bad. A dozen cop cars with lights flashing very rarely signaled good news.
“What’s going on, what are we doing here?” Justin asked with a hint of worry.
“Well,” James started, “I’m going to park the car, we’re going to get out and flash our badges, and then I’m going to show you why we do what we do. You on the other hand, are going to keep your mouth shut and follow my lead.”
The car came to stop and Justin did as he was told. Exiting the car and trying to keep a “federal agent” look on his face he followed James towards the house. They were stopped on the sidewalk but a quick flash of their badges backed the officer off.
As they walked through the door the very first thing Justin noticed was the stench. It was the visceral, oily, sickly sweet smell of death and it had soaked into the very walls of the house. Justin did his best not to retch as they moved on. There was so much activity in the next room that Justin couldn’t process it all.
One body lay in the middle of the living room floor. At least Justin thought it was a single body, there were too many pieces to be certain. Uniformed officers, detectives, and crime scene techs swarmed over the room, noting parallel gouge marks along the furniture, floor, and walls. They snapped pictures of blood spray patterns that reached all the way to the twelve foot ceilings.
James signaled the nearest Detective, "Excuse me, Detective, a moment of your time?"
The Detective moved away from the body and came to join them. James introduced himself as Special Agent Daniel Sullivan and likewise introduced his partner, Special Agent David MacDonald. Justin flashed the badge as he'd been instructed and promptly tuned out. James finished the introductions and stood aside as the officer signaled for everyone to leave. The pair of faux agents waited a few moments as the house emptied of Police.
"What did you say to him?" Justin asked curiously.
"What he wanted to hear," James shrugged, "Though I imagine Detective Colling will be disappointed when I tell him that it looks like a mistake was made and this wasn't done by our guy."
"You lied to the cops?"
"Yes, Justin," James smile was devoid of humor, "I lied to the cops. For their own good. They're not capable of dealing with what did this."
Justin surveyed the carnage in living room, "What did do this?"
"You know what did this, Justin. You knew the moment we walked in and you couldn't tear your eyes away from the claw marks."
"Shifters," Justin whispered, suddenly afraid, "They're not still here are they?"
James shook his head, "No, Justin. If they were there'd be a lot more than three bodies."
"Three bodies..." Justin croaked.
"That's right," James was solemn, "Meet Mr. Nate Scarborough, or what's left of him. His wife and daughter are mostly upstairs."
Justin felt his gut lurch, "Mostly?"
"Yeah, mostly. Follow me, I'll show you." His brain was screaming for him to run. Don't follow. Get out of the house anyway you can.
Justin followed James up the stairs. He tried to ignore the sounds of his shoes sticking to the carpet.
He was led to the master bedroom first. Justin felt his knees turn to rubber as he walked in, James had to steady him. Laying in a still drying pool of blood was the top half of what had once been a beautiful woman. Her chest was torn open and ichor still dripped from her ribs. He swore he could see the soiled comforter through the gaping hole.
James clapped a hand to his shoulder, "Come on, there's more."
Justin didn't know if he could take anymore. But he followed, like a good little soldier. James lead the way to what had once been a little girls sanctuary. Her safe space against the world. It wasn't safe anymore. The little girl had been positioned like a god damn puppet on a child sized rocking horse. She faced the door, grinning that horrible rictus grin that only the dead have mastered. It was made all the worse by the bloody holes staring from where her eyes should have been.
Justin's brain began screaming. He tried to shut out the horrible details. Tried to ignore the fact that her throat had been torn out. That her chest was torn open in the same manner of her mother. Louder and louder his mind screamed, his very psyche rebelling. The world began to spin faster and faster.
Justin found himself outside on all fours, the scent of his recently evacuated stomach soured beneath him. James knelt down with a reassuring hand.
"There are worse monsters in the world than Grimm, Justin. Terrible as he might be, he's still just a man. I brought you here to show you, to remind you what happens when the wrong people find out about our world. What happened in there is horrible, it's going to stay with you for the rest of your life. But you have to move past it. As horrible as it was it's only a precursor of what might be if we fail. Keep this memory with you, Justin. Use it to remember why we fight."
